


Mr. Duck

by bamboozledeagle



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Donald is dad to all, Friends as Family, Hurt/Comfort, Max was HDL's babysitter and I will fight you, The Goofs do not realize how insane the Duck family is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 08:11:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamboozledeagle/pseuds/bamboozledeagle
Summary: Max's relationship with his father's friend and his family throughout the years.I made this sort of Goofy Movie crossover with DT17 back when we all thought the Spear of Selene was a literal spear. This is all from Max’s perspective.





	Mr. Duck

He first meets Donald Duck when he’s two.

His grandfather has just passed and the duck in front of him sounds funny. He isn’t sure where mommy and daddy are, but he’s easily distracted by the antics of the person holding him. Donald coos and makes funny faces at him.

He falls asleep in his arms, blissfully unaware of the sad atmosphere of the funeral home.

…

He sees his father go out to spend time with his friends a couple of times, but he doesn’t meet Donald again until he’s seven. He remembers the screams of three tiny babies. The triplets are wailing their lungs out in their white crib and their faces are red and wet from the tears. 

They’re awfully tiny to be making so much noise.

He shushes them sternly, annoyed by their cries.

His mother comes by to try to soothe them while his father talks to Donald. It’s not long before the duck takes the kids from his mother.

He sees the exhausted slump to his shoulders and even to Max's five-year-old eyes, he can tell that his father’s friend doesn’t look good.

“One starts crying and the rest join in, it doesn’t matter where they are, it’s like they can sense each other. I can’t get any of them to sleep unless they all conk out at the same time. I haven’t slept in weeks Goof.”

“Donald are you sure about…keeping them?” His dad asks him

“You think I can’t?” Donald’s eyes narrow, angrily

“No, that’s-I didn’t mean it like that Don, but triplets are a lot for one person.”

“Hmph, you should try telling that to Della and Scrooge.”

They don’t stay long.

…

When he’s nine and his mother dies people keep apologizing to him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You have my condolences.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

It gets annoying very fast. It’s not their fault his mother is dead, its just how it is. That’s what his father said, anyway.

He’s ready to snap at Uncle Donald when he opens his mouth.

“How are you holding up kiddo?” The question catches him off guard. No one’s asked him that yet, they just apologize and move on.

“I-I’m okay I guess.” Max grips an arm shyly.

“Hm. Well, just know you’re always welcome on the houseboat. I’ve already got three troublemakers, one more won’t make much of a difference.” Uncle Donald puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, as if he knows Max isn’t alright.

He doesn’t apologize or offer condolences.

Later, after his mother is buried and everyone has left, he overhears Donald tell his father, “You’re going to be alright, Goof. You and Max. It’ll be hard for a long time, but you can do it.”

“I’ll be here for you whenever and wherever you need me.”

…

He's twelve and they’re in town visiting the Duck family for a cookout when the mention of babysitting comes up.

Max is a mere second away from biting down on what is always a fantastic burger when he hears his dad offer up his head on a silver platter.

“Oh! Well if you need some extra help, I’m sure Max could watch the kids while you’re out.”

“I don’t know Goofy, the boys like him but I don’t think they’ll listen to him if he tells them to do something.”

“Oh, you worry too much, your boys are well behaved, and Max is a smart boy.”

“I know that, I just worry the kids will pull one of their pranks on him.”

He looks down at the three children eating next to him and watching his every move with sharp eyes. He starts sweating.

…

He learns how to wrangle them quickly. He has to, they’re absolute menaces without their Uncle constantly watching them. If he phrases things like they’re games (Dewey) and if he bargains with them (Louie) or offers a logical reason for them to do things (Huey) they’ll usually do it without much fuss.

He watches them on a couple of occasions throughout his middle school and high school career.

There’s a memorable moment where he invites PJ to come with him. They’ve been dying to play a new videogame and he’s sure the kids will want to play as well.

Uncle Donald catches them when they’re in the middle of a level.

“Who’s this?”

“Uh, I can explain. See there’s this new videogame and-” He stumbles over himself, trying to explain without Uncle Donald getting mad and telling his dad.

“Have the boys eaten?” Uncle Donald cuts him off.

“Yes.” He nods, surprised by the question.

“Have they taken their baths?”

“Yes.”

“I can see they’re in their pajamas…Boys, was there any trouble?” He turns to the triplets, who are sitting on the couch and watching the exchange.

“No, Uncle Donald.” The three answer innocently.

“Well, the houseboat is still standing, and I know the boys aren’t lying.” Donald sighs

“What’s your name kid?” He asks PJ.

“Pete Junior, sir. My friends just call me PJ.” His friend plays with the end of shirt, nervously. PJ isn’t good with adult figures, especially males.

“Hm, alright. Did you help out?”

“Yeah, he made us grilled cheese while Max helped us take a bath!” Dewey grins

“It was so good Uncle Donald!”

“Almost as good as yours!”

PJ is looking at the floor, face scarlet from embarrassment.

Uncle Donald mules over the information for a moment before turning to Max. He’s expecting him to throw the awaited tantrum, but instead he says, “Here’s what I’m going to do. Since Pete helped out, I’m giving him half your pay. Next time, let me know if you’re having someone over, I’d like to meet them first.”

“Oh no sir, you don’t have to-” PJ starts to protest

“Nonsense. You work, you get paid.” He hands over a ten to PJ and another to Max. “If you want to help Max babysit again, I’ll pay you the same amount I usually pay him. Anyone who can keep up with these little devils is welcome anytime.”

PJ stares at the money in awe, “Th-Thank you, sir!”

Uncle Donald waves him off. Car lights shine through the small window. Dad is here to pick them up.

“Same time next week?” Max asks

The duck runs a hand through his hair feathers, “Yeah, if I can keep this job for that long. Hurry along now, if Goofy is left alone long enough he’ll hurt himself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Duck!” PJ waves goodbye and walks out the door.

“Yeah, thanks Uncle Donald.” Max goes to follow.

“Hang on a minute Max, I have a question for you.” Oh man, he knew that was too easy. Uncle Donald must have been waiting for PJ to leave to yell.

“Boys I need a minute with Max. Can you go brush your teeth?”

The triplets hesitate, “He’s not in trouble boys. I promise.”

“Max.” He starts when the boys have left, “Is your friend okay? Who are his parents?”

“What?” Max hadn’t expected that.

“PJ. He was very nervous when I came in, even for someone who thought they were in trouble.”

“Oh, well, PJ doesn’t do well with adults. His uh dad isn’t the best.” Donald narrows his eyes at this.

“Listen Max, if PJ needs a place to hide out, out of town, he can come here.”

“What?” Max looks at him confused

Donald shakes his head, “Never mind, just remember that he’s welcome here. He’s a good kid.”

Max leaves confused. PJ asks, quietly, if he got yelled at and he tells his friend that Uncle Donald was just asking more about what happened while he was gone. PJ doesn’t look convinced.

…

He takes Uncle Donald’s offer once.

He and PJ are picked up by a police officer who catches the two of them trying to get into an R rated movie. PJ is shaking like a leaf in the backseat muttering about how his father is going to kill him.

The officer is determined to drive them both home and tell their parents herself.

“We’re brothers!” Max lies, and thanks the stars that he and Pete have the same hair and eye color. The officer buys it, but then comes the problem of giving her an address. His father will, without a doubt, blow their cover and tell Pete. He spits off the address to the houseboat and prays Uncle Donald will be there.

He is. Though he doesn’t look happy to be having visitors on a Saturday morning.

“Are these boys yours?” The officer asks, looking skeptical that the three can all be related.

Uncle Donald doesn’t miss a beat, “Yes. Why? Are they in trouble?”

“Max! PJ!” The boys cry from their spot on the couch. “You’re back!”

“Boys, settle down please.” Donald hushes them

“These two were trying to get into an R rated movie without an adult present.” The officer explains.

“Really? My boys?” Donald raises an eyebrow.

“We were pulled in by the crowd! We were trying to get out!” Max tries to explain.

“Which movie?”

“I’m sorry?” The officer asks, surprised

“Which movie?”

“I believe it was Loveactually.”

Uncle Donald shakes his head, “You think my boys would be trying to get into a romantic drama movie?”

“Sir-” The officer starts

“What? You think you know my boys better than I do!?” Donald yells and his words dissolve into a garbled mess of noises.

“Sir, please-” The officer tries, but Donald is still yelling

“I’m not paid enough for this.” The officer mutters under her breath, “Okay! Fine! I’ll check their story with the movie’s security cameras.” She huffs before walking off, leaving the teens on the houseboat’s deck.

“Good riddance,” Uncle Donald huffs and opens the door wider, “I hope you boys like mac and cheese with hot dog slices.”

“You’re not going to ask why we’re here?” PJ worries.

“Huh? Aren’t you hear because you got pulled into a rated R movie?”

“No - I mean yes - I mean-”

“That’s really what happened Uncle Donald.” Max says, sparing his friend, “We just, well, we didn’t want our parents to know.”

“I figured that much out.” The single dad loads two plates with food and gives them to the teens at the kitchen table.

“Oh my god this is amazing Mr. Duck.” PJ grins.

“It’s an old recipe my mother used to use.”

“Grandma Duck?” Louie asks

“No, Grandma Duck is my Grandmother. Which makes her your great grandmother. My mother, your grandma Hortense, had a scrapbook of recipes.” The kids look confused before Donald adds, “You like it when I make her pies.”

“Oh!”

“I’ve never met my grandparents.” Max muses.

“I met my grandmother once when I was little.” PJ comments.

“Your Grandmother was a very nice lady, so was your Grandpa, Max.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, your dad hasn’t told you anything?”

“Not really. He’ll mention things about how his dad used to do stuff with him, but other than that not really.”

“Well, back when your father and I were starting to become good friends, Mickey and I went over to his house frequently. I swear we were both adopted into that family the second they found out we were orphans. Your grandmother liked to knit when she wasn’t working as a plumber and she was very good at it. Your grandfather was the outdoorsy type. He was the one who taught me how to fish and he loved to go camping. They were a very nice couple, we were all sad when they passed. They would’ve been proud of you Max.” Donald smiles. 

Max’s chest swells with pride.

“So, how are you boys planning on getting home?”

“Uh…” Max and PJ look at each other confused. They hadn’t thought that far ahead, more concerned with the issue of being arrested. “Dad was gonna pick us up when he got done with work, we were planning on seeing a couple of movies…”

“Well I can take you back to the theatre and you can go about your day, or you can stay here, help me do some chores, and watch the boys in return for dinner and a boat ride.”

“I’m okay for whatever you want to do Max.” PJ shrugs

“There’s not really anything at the theatre we haven’t already seen…”

“Swell, I’ll call your father Max and tell him I called you to help watch the kids. I’m sure he won’t mind.” Uncle Donald gets up to make the phone call and lets the two teens chat with the triplets while he’s gone.

They do the chores, which actually don’t take long with two extra helpers and Donald fires up the houseboat for a drive around. They have dinner out on the ocean, where the city lights can be admired from afar and the stars can be seen more easily.

The kids play, and the teens talk and join in with the triplets’ games a few times.

They cannon ball into the water, fully clothed because why not.

“Wear your life vests!” Donald calls, pulling two extra vests out of who knows where.

All-in-all, the day turns out much better than either he or PJ were expecting.

…

He’s in college when he hears the news.

“Dead?” He repeats over the phone. His father, who is on the other end, confirms and tells him the funeral is in a couple weeks if his studies allow for him to make it down.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know Max-y.”

His friends immediately notice something is wrong when he sees them a couple hours later. “I need to get smashed.” He tells them.

PJ takes the news about as well as he does and they both get messed up.

“He was such a nice guy.” PJ says on the floor of his room. “I thought he’d be like dad when you kept telling me about his temper, but he was so nice and his nephews…oh my god his nephews.”

Max listens numbly next to him.

“He liked you.” Max says, “He told me that if anything happened and you needed a place to stay, you could stay with them for a couple days. I think he knew about…”

“I think he knew too.” PJ says, sadly on the floor.

“Max?” He asks him when they both have a hangover the next morning. “Can I come with you to the funeral?”

The thought of saying no never even occurred to him. 

They go in their nicest suits and meet his dad at the funeral home. There are a lot of people there.

Max doesn’t remember ever being to such a crowded funeral before. There are people that are clearly family and there are people that are clearly military. He sees Uncle Mickey and Aunt Minnie talking softly to two brightly colored people in one corner of the room. He and PJ find the triplets crying quietly on a couch with a little girl. He wants to ask them what happened, instead he starts with asking how they’re doing.

“How are you guys holding up?” Max kneels so he’s at eye level with them.

“Max?”

“PJ?”

“You came?”

“Of course we came.” PJ answers them, and they embrace the triplets in a group hug.

Max notices the girl give them a sad, curious look.

“Hi, I’m Max and this is PJ. We used to babysit these rascals when we were younger.” He introduces himself, arms full of children.

“Hi, I’m Webby.” She gives a small wave. Max opens his arm to let her into the hug and her eyes start watering before joining them.

“Kids.” Grandma Duck calls, “We’re going to start the service.”

They move to a larger room with chairs. He and PJ take a seat next to his dad. The kids sit up front, next to “Is that Scrooge McDuck?” PJ asks.

“Dad?” Max looks at his father.

“I’ll tell you later Max-y.”

His father looks devastated and Max doesn’t have the heart to press him. He turns back towards the front. Across from the kids, in the next aisle, Grandma Duck and a sobbing young woman who looks a lot like Uncle Donald sit next to two young men, one clad in green and the other in red.

Uncle Mickey steps up to the podium to start the service. He opens his mouth to start when the ceiling over the casket caves in with a crash and sunlight floods the room. Dust kicks up around whatever just fell through the ceiling and people start coughing.

Scrooge McDuck stands, angry at whatever has interrupted the funeral, “What the devil-?!”

He stops as a very distinctive voice groans.

The people in the funeral home gasp as Donald Duck himself stands up from the wreckage. A couple of people faint.

“What’s everybody looking at?” Uncle Donald asks, then he looks around and sees the casket, “Oh crap! Sorry!”

“…Donald?” It’s the young woman in the front row who voices what’s on everybody’s mind.

“Yeah?” Uncle Donald looks confused. He’s got dust in his hair that falls off when he turns to look at her.

“You’re alive? But the scriptures said-I could never-how?”

“Uncle Donald!” The kids run and throw themselves at the now alive Duck in front of them. People are whispering around him, but Max is too stunned to do anything more than stare. His father takes off, trying to get to his friend and a couple others move to do the same.

“Stop!” Scrooge McDuck shouts with a force that brings everyone to a halt, “You can’t be here!” He jabs his cane at Donald who has the kids in a tight embrace.

“What?! Says who?!” Donald scowls.

“Says the scriptures! We saw you-!” Scrooge’s voice cracks, “We saw you! You died. Donald, how can you be here?” The old duck has quickly lost any anger he had when he started, he sounds close to tears.

“Died? You crazy old man, you can’t just kill me off! Not after everything I went through to get back!”

“What?”

“The whole thing was a trial Scrooge! The whole point of getting sucked into the spear was to restore it to its natural form, did you even translate the whole script?!” Uncle Donald has stood up from the hug and is now animatedly yelling at Scrooge McDuck.

“What do you mean the whole script?!”

“Did you not read the back?!”

“What back?!”

“The back of the tablet!”

“There was a back?!”

“Yes! Holy crap I thought you both knew and were just being dramatic! Is that why it took you so long?! You didn’t even know there were trials?!” Donald turns to the young woman.

“I thought the doors were the gates to heaven!”

“You spent over a decade suspended in space and didn’t check to see where the doors actually lead!?”

“No! I didn’t want to die!”

“Since when has that ever stopped you?!”

“Since I had children!”

“Well a fat lot of good that did you! Were you just going to wait around for something to happen?!”

“Yes!”

“Like what?!”

“Like a sign or something!”

“Are you-you know what? I’m tired, I’m in pain, I just fell through the ceiling onto a casket, I’m going to go take a nap. Sorry about crashing the funeral. Who died anyway?” Uncle Donald turns and sees the photo of himself from his military days.

“Me?! It’s only been three days!”

“It’s been three weeks!”

“So?! We waited years for them to make your death official!”

He’s not sure when PJ moved but his friend is suddenly next to Uncle Donald, who’s attitude changes when he sees him, “Oh hello PJ, how’s college?”

His friend pulls him into a hug, Uncle Donald looks startled. “It’s good to have you back Mr. Duck.”

That sets off a wave of people who pull Uncle Donald into a hug or pat him on the shoulder or, in the case of the two colorful characters, kiss him on the cheek.

“Hey Max, sorry to pull you from your studies.” He says when Max finally gets through the crowd of people.

Max waves him off, “Believe me, I’m glad it turned out this way. My dad and I are happy to have you back. Besides-”

He looks down at the kids clinging to the man’s legs and remembers when he lost his mom. He looks back up at the one person who asked how he was holding up rather than spouting off an apology and leaving, “-they weren’t alright.”


End file.
